


Music To His Ears

by MsThunderFrost



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Non Cannonical, Not Compliant With Captain America 2, PTSD, Past Mpreg, Post Iron Man 3, fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-19 23:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1487641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsThunderFrost/pseuds/MsThunderFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is feeling immense guilt for the destruction that occurred between the invasion of New York and the mess in Tennessee and he needs someone to tell him he's 'forgiven'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Music To His Ears

** Music To His Ears **

It had been thirteen months since the alien invasion in New York, two weeks since the defeat of 'Mandarin' (more commonly known as Aldrich Killian), and twenty-four hours since Tony had moved into his new flat halfway around the world. All in all, it had been a rather chaotic year.

Tony sat on the windowsill, knees drawn as close to his chest as he could get them comfortably. It may have been two weeks since that battle, but his body still felt as if someone had lit fireworks inside and out. He was beginning to think that that would never go away. Just like the memories of New York. The cold, dead feeling of space played on repeat in his head. Even without his armor nearby, he could feel the suit shut down and the oxygen levels fall rapidly…

Blindly, he raised his mug of tea to his lips and took a swig. The warm, sweet liquid flooded his system and he let his eyes fall closed, wanting to relish in the sense of absolute security. The snow fell down outside, coating the world in a perfect sheet of white, masking the world in innocence. It washed away the remnants of the explosions and all of those that had died, but Tony would always remember. Tony was cursed with the ability to never forget.

"He'll be here in fifteen minutes." Pepper said, suddenly appearing from Tony's kitchen. She had a bottle of Morphine in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "You don't know how shocked he was to hear about what happened."

Tony took the medicine from her silently, swallowing it down with ease and returning his attention to the snow. "He'll understand. He's a solider. Soldiers understand how important it is to protect their loved ones, no matter the cost."

Pepper touched a hand to Tony's shoulder, not missing the way that he flinched at her touch. "Tony… you sent him halfway around the world. Effectively, you told him you wanted nothing to do with him or your daughter."

Brown eyes peered at her for a moment, before they clouded with a foreign emotion that Pepper had not seen on her boss before. "It was the only way that I could be sure that he would leave. He wouldn't if I just… asked."

The blonde shrugged. She took the glass back and set it on the table. "You wouldn't know. You didn't try."

"I wasn't exactly in the best state of mind, in case you didn't notice. I wasn't thinking clearly."

Pepper nodded sympathetically. "You should explain that to him." And then, "He sounded very… open on the phone."

"Yeah. Open." Tony laughed brokenly. He drew further into himself, and Pepper could see the emotional impact it was having on her boss. "There's 'open', and then there's 'out for revenge'. I don't know what to expect anymore."

"Tony -,"

Tony cut her off. "You create your own demons, remember that."

It was truer than he cared to admit. If he hadn't dismissed Aldrich so callously all those years ago, then he wouldn't have had to send Steve and Azalea halfway around the world – and even then, he couldn't be certain that they were safe. It unsettled him, being out of control like this. Azalea was only seventeen months old and she had never been apart from him… until the invasion of New York. That was when his life started to derail. He hoped he could pull it together soon.

He didn't miss when Pepper took a seat on the table, brushing aside his books and making a nice little chair for herself. She crossed her legs and fiddled with the hem of her skirt, all around making it clear that she wasn't about to leave. Finally, Tony tore his gaze away from the window and looked her in the eye. The sight was deeply disturbing. His eyes were sunken, swollen, and purpled. He hadn't shaved recently, and his hair looked a tad shabby.

"You're a mess, Tony." Pepper whispered softly. She stared at him worriedly.

"Thanks." He forced a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Are you sure that you want Steve to see you like this? I mean… I could get your razor from the bathroom." She couldn't look away from his mess of a beard. "Or maybe a comb…"

Tony stretched out a bit, groaning as his muscles cried 'uncle'. He didn't want to move, but he knew that he would have to soon. "He's seen me in worse condition."

Finally, Pepper came out with, "I'm worried about you, Tony."

Tony answered with a noncommittal, "Don't be."

"And why shouldn't I be?"

"It's not worth it. It's not worth the trouble. I've screwed up a lot in my time, but everyone has. But the difference between me and them? I can't forget what I've seen. I can't move forward. My demons are multiplying, and -,"

Pepper raised one strawberry blonde eyebrow. "And this is supposed to make me _not_ worry about you?"

Tony laughed, his voice even more broken than the first time. "No, I guess not."

There was a knock at the door. Pepper looked at her watch, eyes widening as she realized that their guests had arrived early. She shot one last cursory look at Tony. He didn't seem to be too moved by the fact that Steve and Azalea had arrived. In fact, he didn't seem too moved by _anything_ recently. It worried her, yes, and that was why she had called Steve. If she couldn't reach Tony, then maybe he could.

"It'll be fine, Tony. I promise, you'll be able to work this out." Pepper said, offering a weak smile.

"You keep saying that." Tony whispered. He nursed his mug of tea ever so slowly. "Keep saying it, and maybe, just maybe, one of these times I'll actually believe you."

**OOOO**

Pepper opened the door and was immediately met with the sweet smile of Tony's seventeen-month-old princess, Azalea. The little girl was dressed in a pretty blue sweater-dress, with tiny white faux-fur booties, and large blue bows in her short black hair. Her face was round and smooth, with a creamy complexion and rosy cheeks. Dark blue eyes were set underneath thick, full coal lashes. Pepper's heart swelled as the little girl fisted a handful of her skirt and pulled cutely.

"Well, hello there, sweetie." Pepper offered her a smile in return. The little girl giggled cutely, bouncing up and down on the thick shag carpet in the hallway. "Do you wanna see your Daddy?"

"Dada Tony?" She asked. Her words were a bit slurred and garbled with baby-talk, but Pepper was able to make them out, for the most part.

"Yeah." The little girl beamed at the mention of Tony and nodded hurriedly, not wanting to waste another minute. "He's in the sitting room, waiting for you. Go see him, huh?" Azalea didn't need to be told twice.

"Daddy!" She cried. A few seconds later, Pepper heard the soft _oomph_ as Azalea threw herself at Tony.

Pepper peered down the hall, noticing Steve just a little ways down the hall. He looked reluctant to go any further, and he wasn't about to go running into Tony's arms as Azalea had. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but… well, Pepper could guess what was going through his head, based off of her earlier conversation with Tony. Like Tony had feared, Steve wasn't just bouncing back. Apparently, Tony had been rather cruel in sending him off.

She was well aware of Tony's stubbornness. She had experienced it firsthand for many years. But she knew for a fact that, sometimes, Steve could be even more stubborn than her boss. The love between them was obvious, but both were so hurt, so broken, she knew that neither was willing to bridge the gap on their own. Placing a hand on Steve's shoulder, she led him down the hall to a small sitting area. Motioning for him to take a seat, she claimed the one across from him.

"Thank you for coming. It means a lot to Tony. I know that… it must be hard. I don't know what happened between you and I won't pretend like one little phone call will make it okay, but -,"

Steve cut her off. "That's one way to put it."

Pepper nodded understandingly. "I take it that you heard about the Mandarin?"

Steve offered her a dull look. "A terrorist of his scale? I would have to have been a hermit _not_ to hear about him." And then, in a calmer tone, "SHIELD had a few briefings on him. The Avengers were never officially called, though."

"Yes, well, I'm sure that you know how it ended, then?" Steve nodded. "Tony feels personally responsible for it because of the 'past life' that he lived. The loss of life… the destruction… the chaos… and what happened to you and Azalea."

Steve chuckled blandly. "Don't think that you can convince me that he did what he did because of a terrorist that hadn't even made an attack yet, Ms. Potts. I've learned the hard way that sometimes, Tony is just an ass."

"Yes, he is." Pepper agreed. "And I also agree that it wasn't because of the Mandarin. It was because of New York."

This seemed to catch Steve's attention. "What about New York?" He asked softly.

"The worm hole… space… he has severe PTSD. He can't sleep. He can't eat. He's plagued with frequent nightmares and he's destroying himself over things that he can never hope to understand. Things like Thor… and Loki."

Steve was silent as he remembered. He could remember it vividly, almost as if it had been yesterday and not nearly thirteen months ago. Tony had spiraled up into space, attempting to redirect the bomb that had been set to blow in New York. Pepper continued to talk in the background, but Steve could barely hear her. According to her account, Tony's suit had shut down about twenty seconds into space and he fell mere milliseconds before the bomb exploded.

He'd fallen to earth and crash-landed on the highway, his suit seemingly mutilated beyond repair, trapping Tony's body inside. He wasn't conscious and he didn't seem to be breathing either. Steve could remember the fear, like dry ice, as it clogged his veins and made it nearly impossible to breathe. What was he supposed to do without Tony? How was he supposed to live without Tony? And then Tony had regained consciousness…

"…Tony pushes people away when he's scared." Pepper continued, oblivious to the fact that Steve had momentarily zoned out. "I won't say that he didn't mean it. You can judge that for yourself. But please… give him a chance."

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't willing to give him a chance." Steve assured her, but there was no conviction in his tone.

"This man has lost everything, Steve. And I literally mean _everything_. He can't lose you too." She finished softly.

Steve's dark eyes met hers. "If I really intended to leave him, I would have done it a long time ago. I wouldn't have answered your call, and I certainly wouldn't have come back."

A moment of silence passed, before Pepper asked, "Are you ready to see him?"

Steve shrugged noncommittally. "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose."

Pepper smiled weakly. "I promise, this won't kill you. Either of you."

"You can't know that for sure."

Pepper didn't comment, but the comment hung in the air like an ax waiting to drop. She rose off of the seat, Steve following suit. Walking back to Tony's new flat, she unlocked the door and entered inside. Steve followed and shut the door behind him. The scent of tea was thick in the air and Tony's voice, low and honey sweet, filled it with an ancient fairytale that he had memorized shortly after Azalea was born. And just that fast, he found himself falling again…

**OOOO**

Pepper had offered to take Azalea to the local park to play, if only to allow Steve and Tony some much-needed time to talk things out. Tony had been quick to thank her and send her on her way. But once the door shut behind her, he found that it was much more uncomfortable without her. He stared at his former lover, and found that, for the first time, he was at a loss for what to say. There was so much he _wanted_ to say to Steve, but he just didn't know how to say it…

The _names_ that he had called Steve… it made him sick to think about it. It had just been so uncalled for. He was just… just overcome with his own misery, not realizing that Steve was suffering as well, and all he knew was that he wanted to be alone. He wanted to suffer and sink further into himself, because it was safe there. It had _always_ been safe there. When he had to connect with other people, interact with them, that was when life became difficult.

As it turned out, Steve was the first one to break the silence. He asked if Tony would like some more tea, noticing that Tony would nurse the mug, but not actually drink anything. Tony nodded blandly, but did not say a word. Steve took the mug out into the kitchen and set it into the sink, before he filled a kettle with water and set it onto the stove. Once he was sure the stove was hot enough, he turned and leaned on the counter, getting a perfect glimpse at Tony.

"You look awful, Tony." Steve offered nonchalantly.

"I've heard that one before." Tony quipped, his throat dry.

Noticing that that approach wasn't working, Steve decided on a different one. "I wasn't really mad at you, you know. I was hurt, sure. Mortified, even. But I could never force myself to be mad at you."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "That's a first." And it was true. Usually, jilted former lovers would come spitting and hissing and crying about all his wrong-doings. This was a rather pleasant (in a sick sort of way) change.

"When I first met you, I knew you to be a… challenge. It had been my first month since I had been 'defrosted'. I don't even know why I was there, but I was at a bar – and you were there. With a girl on each arm."

"Steve…" Tony trailed off.

"No, don't. I want to tell you this." Steve took a deep breath. "I found myself staring at you, knowing that you could see me, but I just couldn't look away. The girls were laughing, but I didn't care. I had heard stories about you, but… the stories were nothing like the original,

"I must've made you uncomfortable, or something like that, I don't really know. But you came over, engaged me in a little conversation. I was stuttering, not really sure of my footing with you. You were, after all, a multi-million dollar prodigy and I just didn't feel like I compared… not by today's standards, anyhow. Life is very different now, you know.

"You threw your drink in my face and told me, very eloquently, to bugger off. I tried to laugh it off, but I couldn't help but feel something snap inside of me. It was like my heart had broken, and I didn't even know you. And yet… even when you embarrassed me like that… made me feel like _trash_ … I couldn't get mad at you.

"And then, we met again in the Avengers. I wanted to show you what I could do, show you that I was worthy of standing on the same level as you. And even then, you made me feel inferior. Knowing who I was, knowing what I did… none of that mattered. I would never rub it in your face, what I did, but you? You couldn't stop?"

Tony did his best to take all of it in, feeling his heart sink further into his chest as he realized just how poorly he had treated Steve. By the time they had had the battle in New York, all of this had been figured out, but… just the fact that Steve _remembered_ all of this… it killed him. It was literally as if someone had reached into his chest and dug a knife into his heart – he could think of no other way to describe it.

"Why are you telling me this? I can't change the past." Tony mumbled.

Steve fixed him his tea and handed it over. "No, you can't. I'm not expecting you too. But maybe, if you understand the past, it will help you in the future."

"How do you mean, Steve?" Tony asked, starting to drink his tea again.

"You start by vocalizing the past. It is now out in the open, clear and unembellished. And now," Steve shrugged, "it's gone. Just like that. We move on."

Tony stared at the Captain as if he had completely lost his mind. He couldn't be serious! "I don't understand what it is you want me to do? Confess all my crimes to make myself feel better?"

"You feel bad that you called me names? Say it. You feel responsible for the destruction that Mandarin caused? Confess it. Don't keep it bottled up inside. I can hold your burden too. Try it. You'll see."

Tony looked at him skeptically, not wanting to believe Steve. He didn't want to leave his protective cocoon. But he also knew that that was the only chance he would have to save what they had. Steve was laying all his cards out on the table, and it was up to Tony which he decided to pick up. He took another swig of tea. Fine. If Steve wanted a confession, then he would receive the mother lode.

The words fell from Tony's mouth before he even realized it, weaving an elaborate story that started in 1999 and ended with the death of Aldrich Killian. He told Steve what he had never told anyone – the truth behind the asthma attacks, the fear that those _creatures_ could return, _everything_. By the time that he reached the names that he had called Steve, he was balling. And Steve was listening. He was taking it all in, not willing to lose a minute of it.

And when he was finished, Steve leaned in, kissing him softly on the nose. "And you know what, Tony? I forgive you." And those three words were music to his ears.


End file.
